Memory
by Mirai Catarina
Summary: When a young man shows up in a hospital with no memory of his past, what will happen to him? And what if he starts discovering that he has superpowers?
1. Chapter 1

It was quiet. Of course, most small towns would be at two in the morning on a Monday...

The only lights were the occasionally flickering street lamps and the irritating fluorescent glow of the 24-hour MiniMart.

Inside the store, the on-duty clerk sat half-asleep, a book propped up on the counter in front of him and the news blaring on the television in the background. Had he been fully awake, the clerk might have been prepared for what happened next... He might have been...

A bell jingled as someone stumbled through the door. Their damp hair clung to their face, a sign that the rain outside had picked up. The clerk watched him with interest as he took three limping steps and stopped.

"Can I help you with anything?"

The man mumbled a response and limped forward, one hand clutching his right side.

"I can't hear you, buddy. Could you—"

The stranger dropped to the floor, his hand falling away to reveal the five-inch gash in his side. The gray linoleum was quickly stained a dark crimson.

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When the ambulance and the police arrived, the clerk could have been the one that had nearly been stabbed to death for how ghastly his complexion was. The police looked around the area for clues, though their hopes were grim with the rain falling so heavily. Any clues that could help them would most likely have been washed away. All they could do was wait for him to wake up...

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_"Where am I?"_

**"What do you care? You got away, right?"**

_"Away? From what?"_

**"You do remember the men, don't you?"**

_"Who?"___

**"You're pathetic."**

_"What makes you say that? Who are you to judge me?"_

**"Ouch. That really hurts. What the hell happened to you? Wait... there's something missing here..."**

_'Have we met before?'_

**"How can you not remember **_me_****

_'I don't know... Ummm...'_

**"What is it?"**

_'I don't even remember who I am.'_

**"This could get interesting..."**

_'Can you—'_

**"Your name is ****Clark****. You are twenty one years old. Now wake up."**

**-----------------------------------------------**

The ceiling was white. That was the first thing Clark noticed when he opened his eyes.

_'Am I in the hospital?'_ he wondered. _'What happened to me?'_

"It's good to see that you're awake, son. How are you feeling?"

He was in pain… Why did that concept seem so odd to him?

Clark looked around sleepily for the source of the voice. There, at the end of the bed. A doctor... _'But how did I get here?'_ He moaned; partly in frustration, but mostly in pain.

"Let's get some more morphine for you huh? I'm not surprised that you're in pain; that was a pretty nasty gash you had there. You're lucky that whoever had it out for you managed to miss anything vital."

Clark felt the pain begin to ebb as the morphine kicked in.

**"Don't tell me you can't take the pain. That's just a little nick! It didn't even come close to your kidneys."**

_'Who are you?! What do you want from me?!'_

**"You'll find out eventually."**

_'I don't think I want to find out.'_

**"That's kind of harsh ****Clark**__

_'Go away.'_****

**"You'll regret that."**

"Son? Can you hear me?"

Clark blinked. "What?"

"I asked you what your name is."

"Uh... It's Clark."

"Clark? And your last name?"

"I..." He didn't know. Maybe that voice could tell him. _'Are you there?'_ No response. "I can't remember..."

The doctor's look was one of disbelief. "You're serious aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember anything else about yourself?"

**"You're twenty one stupid."** The voice was apparently choosing when it did or didn't feel like throwing in some commentary here and there.__

_'Shut up!'_****

**"Your loss."**

"I'm twenty one." Clark told the doctor.

"Alright. We'll see what we can do for you Clark. But for now, just get some sleep."

**"I can help you,"** the voice piped in again.

_'I don't want your help,'_ Clark scowled as he grew frustrated with the voice.

**"If you say so.**** I'll be around, ****Clark**

Clark felt as though some unseen presence had left the room. And at the same time, it felt like it was still there, just waiting for the right moment to reappear. But at least he would get some peace and quiet for now. This was as good a time as any to get some sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

"For crying out loud Alex! Go home!"

"I just want to finish these charts, Dr. Kendall."

"You've been working since six o'clock this morning. Go home and get some rest. I've never known a nurse as hardworking as you are."

She nodded her head, not really listening as she pulled out another chart. "What's the news on this new guy?"

"Who?" Dr. Kendall asked as he leaned down next to her to look at the chart.

"Clark."

"Oh. As far as we can tell, he's suffering from a rather severe case of amnesia. We know nothing about him except for his name, age, and vitals," Kendall sighed.

"The police don't know anything yet?"

"No. They said it was going to be hard to find anything with all the rain we've been having recently."

"Oh..."

"Alex..."

"Hmm?"

"Go home before I fire you," he said, pulling the chart out of her hands.

"Fine, fine. I'll go home!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in defeat.

"And I don't want to see you working before eight o'clock tomorrow either!"

"Alright!" Alex grabbed her coat from her locker in the staff lounge and clocked out before heading home.

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Clark's eyes flew open. Someone else was in the room. He sat up quickly, wincing in pain

"Good morning Clark. How are you feeling?" There was a young woman setting a vase of flowers on the bedside table. Did he know her? "I'm Alex, a nurse here at Metropolis General. I figured you could use something to brighten up your room."

"Alex! What are you doing here?!"

"I'm not on the clock Doctor Kendall."

"I'm sorry about this, Clark. She'll be out of here in just a moment."

"N-no... it's alright. I don't mind..."

"Fine. But if I find out that you've prevented this young man from getting the rest he needs..."

"You have nothing to worry about, sir," Alex grinned widely.

"Sure Alex." The doctor rolled his eyes before leaving the room.

"Why are you doing this?" Clark whispered, his eyes focused on his hands.

"Why not?" she replied, turning to look at him.

He glanced up, his bluish-gray eyes locking with her bright green ones. He smiled half-heartedly. "Alright, if you insist on bringing me—"

"Are you okay, Clark?" Alex asked, cutting him off.

"Yep. That's why I'm in a hospital."

"No, I meant... You're bleeding!"

Clark looked down at his side, where a deep crimson stain was spreading across his hospital gown. "Well, that can't be good..."

Alex ran out into the hall. "Doctor Kendall!!"

"I'm right here Alex! Stop yelling!"

"He pulled a stitch!"

"Who?"

"Clark!"

"Shit! Go get me a suture kit, now!"

"Yes sir!" Alex said, quickly hurrying down the hall as Doctor Kendall stepped into Clark's room.

"Let's see those stitches, son." Clark laid down and turned onto his uninjured side. The doctor pulled a penknife out of his pocket and used it to cut a hole in the side of Clark's hospital gown and looked closely at the sutures. Alex returned at that point, suture kit in hand.

"Here you go Doctor Kendall."

"Hand me the tweezers. We need to get these torn sutures out."

Alex did as she was told throughout the procedure. The whole thing went very smoothly and Doctor Kendall sighed when he set the last of the tools back on the tray.

"Clean all of this up and get him a new gown."

"Yes sir."

"And if I catch you bothering the patients anymore, I'm really not going to be happy with you. Do you understand me Alex?"

"Yes Doctor Kendall..."

"Good."

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Clark pulled the clean shift over his head before climbing back into bed, careful of the stitches in his side.

**"I still don't get how you managed to get yourself injured in the first place, ****Clark****."**

Clark sighed, wishing he could be rid of the mysterious voice. _'What do you care?'_

**"I'm just a bit intrigued. I mean—"**

_'Shut up. I don't want to hear it.'_

**"Fine."**

"Clark?"

He looked up to see Alex standing in the doorway. "Yeah?"

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Thanks for saving my life," he smiled.

"I highly doubt you would have died from a torn suture," she chuckled.

"You never know."

Alex grinned. "Well then, you're welcome."

Clark's smile widened into a grin before disappearing into a wide yawn.

"Get some rest Clark."

He watched as she turned to go. "Hey Lex?" She stopped, flinching slightly. "What?"

"Lex isn't exactly one of my favorite nicknames... I don't know about you, but I'm not exactly a big fan of the Luthors."

"Who?"

Alex smiled sympathetically. "No one. Don't worry about it... What were you going to ask me?"

"Have they found anything out about me?"

"Not yet. But you can be sure that if anything turns up, you'll be the first to know."

"Thanks again Alex."

"Of course. If there's anything else you need, just let me know."

"I will."

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"Doctor Kendall!"

The doctor turned to find a lab technician hurrying towards him. "Yes, what is it?"

"I'm so glad I found you. I really thing you need to see this..."

"Make it quick. I have patients to attend to."

"Right this way doctor." Kendall followed the technician to the main blood work lab, where he was directed to one of many microscopes.

"Mr. Roberts, I told you before that I am very busy. I don't have time to—"

"Doctor Kendall, trust me. You _want_ to see this."

"Alright..." he mumbled, peering through the eyepiece. "There, I looked. Are you satis... What exactly is this Roberts?!"

"This is the close-up of one of the blood samples from your 'John Doe'."

"You can't be serious."

"And get this. According to the tests and scans we've done, there is absolutely nothing wrong with his mind that would prevent him from remembering anything about his past."

"Then why would he..."

"In my opinion, something happened to him that he doesn't _want_ to remember."

"That sounds to me like post-traumatic stress syndrome."

"Exactly."

"Thank you Mr. Roberts."

"Yes sir."

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**See my bio section for information on upcoming chapters!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Memory**

**Chapter 3**

Disclaimer: I guess I should get this thing out of the way... I do not own anything affiliated with the show Smallville. I never have and I never will.

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"I can't believe Clark's been missing for almost three months and no one called me," Chloe frowned as she took set her laptop on the table in front of her.

"You know, Chloe, last time I checked, you said you didn't wasn't to have anything to do with him. And that was right before you hopped onto a bus bound for Metropolis," Pete frowned.

"What do you expect? The Daily Planet gave me a job. Was I supposed to stay in Smallville and try to explain that to my new boss?"

"And Lana tried quite a few times to get a hold of you..."

"I was busy."

Pete cocked an eyebrow skeptically. "It was on the front page of quite a few newspapers."

"I don't really want to talk about this right now..."

"Chloe, you're doing it again."

"What am I doing Pete?"

"You're shutting everyone out because you refuse to face your problems."

"Pete..."

"Chloe, I'm serious."

She sighed, her eyes locked, unfocused, on the screen in front of her. "I just... I'm tired of being treated like a nobody, Pete. Clark always managed to find the time to help Lana out, but when it came time for him to help me, he always managed to forget that he had ever even talked to me."

Pete was silent. He wasn't exactly sure what to say in response to what Chloe had just said.

"I'm really busy right now, Pete..."

"Alright... I'll talk to you later..."

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Lex stepped through the door of The Talon and sighed when he caught sight of Lana cleaning up yet _another_ dropped mug. He shook his head and approached her. "You know, at this rate, all of our profits are going to be put towards replacing the dishes," he smiled.

"I'm really sorry, Lex..."

He crouched down to help her. "Doing this to yourself isn't going to bring him back, Lana."

"I'm just so worried about him Lex. I know that Clark is perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but no one has _any_ idea of where he could be..."

"We _will_ find him. I promise you that Lana."

"Thank you Lex."

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**Two Weeks Later**

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_"I don't care __Clark__. I love you – that's all that really matters."_

_"Lana... I don't want to hurt you..."_

_"You won't __Clark__."_

_"Lana, there's something I need to tell you."_

_"What is it __Clark__?"_

_He stopped._

_"__Clark__?"_

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"Clark? Clark wake up."

His eyes opened slowly. Alex was standing by his bed, chart in hand.

"Are you alright Clark?"

"I think so... Why?"

"That sounded like a very vivid dream," she smiled.

"Yeah... it was pretty realistic..."

"Who is Lana?"

"I don't know... someone important I assume..."

"You don't remember who she could be?" Alex asked sadly.

He shook his head. "Something about her seemed familiar..." he frowned, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"I'm sure you'll remember everything in time, Clark. And someone is bound to recognize that sweet face of yours."

He grinned, a faint red tint spreading across the bridge of his nose and his high cheekbones. "Thank you Alex." He watched her for a minute as she went over his charts and checked his vitals. But before long, his thoughts returned to the girl that had made her way into his dream. And as he did, a sharp pain appeared between his eyes and his eyes themselves started to burn. He winced and rubbed furiously at his eyes.

Alex noticed this before long. "Clark? What's wrong?"

"My eyes feel like they're on fire..."

"Let me get some drops and we'll see if that'll help."

Clark squinted his eyes open and glanced over towards the window. It suddenly felt as though the burning sensation was shooting from his eyes. He watched helplessly as a spot on the window started to glow red before melting. The heat became so intense that the entire window shattered. Clark turned away to protect himself from the flying shards of glass.

Alex came running back into the room and stared in disbelief at the scene before her.

"Clark? What happened?!"

"I don't know!"

Doctor Kendall came running. "What on Earth?!"

"We have no idea what happened, Doctor."

"Fine. Get him to another room and then get someone up here to take care of this mess."

"Yes Doctor Kendall," Alex sighed as he left the room.

Clark stared at the window, his expression confused. "I just don't understand it..."

"Understand what?"

"I was just staring at that window, and it was like it started melting before it just... shattered..."

"That's... interesting… I'm going to go get you a wheelchair," she said, turning. She paused in the doorway. "Do you still want those drops?" she asked.

Clark shook his head. "No. The burning... stopped..." he trailed off, his tone thoughtful. Alex glanced from him to the shattered window before shaking her head and hurrying out of the room to get a wheelchair. Clark frowned. _'Did I just...'_

**"What ****Clark****? Are you wondering if you super-heated the window with your _eyes_?"**

_'Umm...'_

**"Do you really want to know? Or are you going to tell me to shut up again?"**

_'Tell me.'_

**"Yes. You did that. You were thinking about Lana, weren't you?"** the voice accused.

_'Actually, yes.__ Who is she?'_

**"You'll probably find out eventually. I think it may be just a tad bit early for me to tell you that now."**

_'Why?'_ But the voice was gone.

"Alright Clark, time to go for a ride," Alex smiled, steering a wheelchair into the room.

Clark sat up slowly and swung his legs over the side of the bed, lowering his feet to the cold linoleum. Carefully lowering himself into the chair, Clark leaned back, making himself comfortable. "Steer the way."

Alex wheeled him out of the room and down the hall. They passed several doctors and a few other patients as well as a very bald young man on a cell phone as he hurried past them. Alex stopped and frowned. "Hang on a moment, Clark," she said, turning to confront the man. "Excuse me, Mr. Luthor," she said, tapping him on the shoulder.

Lex paused, holding his hand over the mouthpiece. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"I realize how much you've contributed to this hospital, but cell phones are still not allowed to be used here."

"Yes, of course. Let me just finish my call." Alex frowned and watched him expectantly. "I have to go, are you sure you'll be fine running The Talon by yourself today?" He paused briefly. "Yes Lana, I will let you know if I hear anything. And don't overwork yourself. You're not exactly in the condition to be doing anything like that right now. And be sure to call Mrs. Kent if you need anything. Bye Lana." The billionaire slapped his phone shut.

"Thank you Mr. Luthor."

"Please, call me Lex," he smiled, holding out his hand.

She studied him for a minute before accepting it and shaking it. "Alexis."

"It was nice to meet you Alexis. Unfortunately, I have to go see about an exploding window. If you'll excuse me."

"Of course."

Lex headed off down the hall, glancing back once to see the nurse, probably about the same age as him, steering a patient down the hall in a wheelchair.

"Mr. Luthor?" Lex turned back around.

"Dr. Kendall, good to see you," he grinned, shaking the man's hand. "Now, about that window."

"We're not exactly sure what happened sir."

"And it doesn't look like a large rock could have been involved?"

"We're on the sixth floor sir..."

"I feel like I'm back in Smallville..."

"Pardon?"

"There are quite a few unexplainable things that have happened in Smallville, doctor. Most people have linked it to the meteor shower that hit there eighteen years ago."

"I see. Speaking of unexplainable things, you should meet my most recent patient."

"Oh?"

"He's got amnesia. All he can remember are his first name and his age."

"Interesting. You know, I've got a few connections. Maybe I could help him locate some family or friends."

"That would be very much appreciated, Mr. Luthor."

"So, how'd he end up here?"

"He showed up in a small town nearby – just your everyday Podunk – with a stab wound four inches wide. They sent him here."

"Wow."

"Yeah. Come on, I'll introduce you to him. He was just moved down the hall."

"Let me guess. A nurse named Alexis is in charge of him."

"Alex? Yeah, that's right."

Lex smiled. "She took the time to remind me of the policy on cell phone usage while in a hospital."

"I see. Well, if you'll follow me." Lex followed the short, balding doctor to a room that Alex was just leaving. "Is he up for a visitor, Alex?"

"No. I finally convinced him to go back to sleep. He's out cold."

"I'm sorry about this Lex. Perhaps another time?"

"Of course. I'll contact you the next time I'm in the area."

"Thank you Mr. Luthor."

"It's not a problem." Lex turned and walked back down the hall towards the bank of elevators.

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**Remember to check my bio section for information on updates!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Memory**

**Chapter 4**

**Author's Note:** Okay everyone, I just wanted to thank all of you that have reviewed so far. The feedback has been so much better than expected. Now, I have a response to one review I received.

_I do know a decent amount about the way a hospital works, since, A: My dad works in an intensive care unit, and B: I myself am going into the field of Nursing.So please do not assume that I know less than you. I realize that a four-inch gash isn't that big a deal, but people who are reading the story up to this point know that this is Clark Kent we're talking about, and also, you can still bleed to death from a four-inch knife wound. Yes, a "Podunk hospital would treat him, unfortunately, when it comes to small towns, not all of them actually have a hospital, and yes, I realize that I neglected to mention that – in going over past stories, I have found that I have left out certain details on the assumption that people will figure them out – I am working on remedying that issue. Finally, pertaining to the healing of the knife wound, I have my plans for that, which will be revealed in a future chapter. You should remember that certain details about stories can come back much later on with a surprising twist. Trust me, I read enough stories and have had enough VERY experienced writers talk to me about writing methods to know what I am doing here._

_Thank you for reviewing._

_PS: I don't remember ever asking for critique on my bio._

And now, for the rest of you, let's continue with the story.

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Lana sat curled up in an overstuffed armchair... it was Clark's favorite. He had dragged the thing out of his loft when they had moved into their apartment. She remembered all the times she had caught him sitting in it past midnight, attempting to get in some last minute studying for a test in one of his classes.

She would stand in the doorway for a few minutes, just watching him as he went over his notes, checking and double-checking what he had written with what was in his books. She loved how cute he looked after he had run his hand through his hair for the thousandth time. After a minute, he would pause briefly before looking up at her, a smile on his face. _'I still can't figure out how you manage to sneak up on me like that,'_ he would grin. Lana would beg him to come to bed and he, of course, would happily comply with her request, his exam forgotten until the next morning. And now all she could do was hope that she would see her husband again in this lifetime...

She looked up at a picture on the wall across the room from her that showed the two of them on their wedding day and smiled. Clark's smile couldn't possibly have been any bigger and he looked so carefree. The weight-of-the-world look she had always noticed him having while they were in high school was gone from his eyes. She turned her attention to the picture next to it that had been taking when they had cut the cake at their reception. Laughter lit up Clark's face, which happened to be smeared with white frosting. Her own face held only the slightest smudge of white at the tip of her nose.

She sighed, finally returning her gaze to the note in her hand.

_Lana,_

_We know how hard all of this is for you. Never forget that you are always welcome to come out to the farm at any time, day or night. And if you need to talk, I'm always here to listen._

_Love,_

_Martha_

Lana smiled. She still hadn't told them; Clark was supposed to have been the first to know... But right now, she really needed someone else to help her bear this incredible and wonderful burden. And Lex, who, as usual, had managed to find out on his own, wasn't exactly the kind of person she usually went to when she needed to spill her heart.

She stood and went to the door, stepping into her shoes and grabbing her coat and keys before she headed out the door to her car.

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"Jonathan, did you hear that?" Martha asked sitting up in bed.

"Hear what?" he asked groggily, wincing as she turned the light on.

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. _There it was again; an urgent pounding at the front door, just audible over the sound of the rain beating on the roof overhead. "Someone's at the door!" she said, hurrying out of bed and pulling on her robe.

"Martha, it's two in the morning and it's pouring out!" Jonathan cried as she hurried down the stairs. She quickly unlocked the door, pulling it open to be greeted by a rather wet and bedraggled looking Lana.

"You must be freezing! Come in Lana, honey," she said as she headed into the kitchen and filling the teapot before putting it on the stove to boil. "Have a seat while I go get you something warm to change into, and then I'm going to make you some nice, hot tea," she told Lana before hurrying upstairs and into Clark's old room. Digging through his dresser, she managed to dig up some old flannel pajama pants and an oversized Metropolis University sweatshirt and took them down to Lana. "Here you go, Lana. You go change and I'll make this tea for you."

Lana smiled as her mother-in-law went to work. After a minute, she wandered down the hall to the bathroom where she changed into the clothes she had been given. They smelled like him; even after all this time, his clothes from high school reminded her of the way it felt when she was wrapped safely in his arms. She rung her wet clothes out over the sink and folded them, setting them on the edge of the counter before emerging from the bathroom to the smell of hot herbal tea.

"Just leave your clothes in the bathroom, Lana, I'll take care of them later," Martha called down the hall. Lana smiled and made her way back down the hall to the kitchen, where she took a seat on a stool at the counter.

"I really appreciate you doing all of this for me, Martha," she said, taking the mug she was offered and breathing in the warm, lemony smell.

"You're family Lana; and I know how upset Clark would be if anything happened to you."

Lana smiled. "Clark has always told me about what great parents you are. He even told me once that he always though you'd be the best grandparents in the world."

Martha's smile slipped. "Poor Clark. He would be so good with kids... and we don't even know if he can have any." Lana set her mug down and took the older woman's hands in her own. She couldn't hold back a grin.

"I don't think that's something we'll have to worry about anymore."

Martha's expression was one of surprise before tears sparkled in her eyes. "You're pregnant?" Lana nodded happily. "Oh honey, congratulations! I can't believe you haven't told me about this before now, though," Martha said, pulling Lana into a tight hug.

"I was hoping to let Clark know before anyone else..." Lana couldn't hold back the tears that slid down her cheeks as she tightly held onto her mother-in-law.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart," Martha said sympathetically.

Lana shook her head. "No one could have expected something like this to happen," she sighed, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand as they released each other from the embrace.

Martha frowned suddenly. "I can't believe that you're still running The Talon by yourself!" she chided the younger woman, her expression disapproving.

Lana couldn't help but laugh. "You have nothing to worry about there. Lex has managed to hire enough new help that I can't get anywhere near the equipment. In fact, I think the only thing I've been doing recently has been breaking dishes," she smiled.

"Lex knows then?" Martha asked, an eyebrow raised.

"He kind of figured it out when I kept having to go home sick," Lana shrugged, taking another sip of her cooling tea.

"But he _is_ keeping you off your feet?"

"Yes. In fact, if he had his way, I'd probably be going around town in a motorized wheelchair," Lana chuckled.

Martha laughed with her. "I'm glad to hear that _someone's_ been looking out for you the last three months. But for now, I think you need to get some decent sleep. You finish up that tea while I go set up Clark's old bed for you to use."

"Thank you again Martha."

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Clark sat staring out the window as the sun slowly climbed the towers of Metropolis to its place over the skyline. But to him, it was just too fake. The colors seemed dull and plain. It was as though he had once seen it from a better vantage point sometime in the past – not that he could really remember...

"Clark? What are you doing up so early?" Alex asked. He looked up to see her standing in the doorway, her hands full of charts. She must have glanced in on her way to the nurses station.

"I don't know... I had this really vivid dream that I was supposed to be up early to finish some work and I slept through my alarm clock. I woke up then and I couldn't get back to sleep. The weird thing is, I feel like there's something that I should be doing right now...

"Like what?" Alex asked, intrigued. She stepped further into the room and set the charts on a table before taking a seat in the chair beside his bed.

Clark shrugged. "I don't know... farm work I guess; feeding cows, mucking out stalls. Something along those lines."

"That's really interesting Clark. With that and the dream in perspective, maybe you grew up on a farm," Alex smiled. "Well, I guess I should go do my work," she said, glancing up at the clock. "Are you hungry? I could grab you something to eat when I'm done."

He nodded. "Yeah, breakfast does sound good right now."

"Alright then, I'll be back before too long."

Once she was gone, Clark glanced at the dented side rail of his bed, the finger-sized grooves clearly visible. He had done that; he didn't need a voice to tell him that. What was it about him that was so different? As far as he could remember, no one was supposed to be able to do the things he was doing... right? So what was next? Was he going to start flying?

**"Probably not."**

_'Then what?__ It would be nice to know beforehand...'_

**"I guess it would be alright to tell you, since technically you already have the ability to do it."**

_'If I'm already able to do these things, then why wasn't I doing them in the first place?'_

**"There are actually two answers to that. The first one lies with the knife you were stabbed with. The second is simply that you did not remember that you were able to do them. All it took was finding the trigger for each thing."**

_'What else am I able to do?'_

**"You have X-ray vision."**

_'Great, I'm sure most hospitals would love to have me around, it would definitely cut down on the cost of equipment use,'_ Clark thought sarcastically

**"If I am remembering correctly, your sight is a bit more useful than that."**

_'And what exactly do you mean by that?'_

**"Let's try this: I want you to describe to me, in detail, the person in the next room."**

_'And how, may I ask, do you expect me to do that?'_

**"Just focus," the voice instructed simply, leaving Clark to his own devices.**

Clark frowned as he stared at the wall in front of him. Looking through a wall; that wouldn't be too hard, would it? Clark could practically hear the psychologist now, asking him how long he'd been hearing these _voices_ inside his head and where he kept his flamethrower hidden. He winced as his head began to throb in what seemed to be a bad headache. When he realized what he was seeing in front of him, he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. There was an old man sitting up in the bed in the next room over. He had silvery white hair and gentle green eyes. There was an oxygen mask in place over the man's mouth and nose. But he didn't seem to notice as he retrieved the television remote from the table by his bed to change the channel. The old man leaned further back into the pillow and adjusted his spectacles so that they were resting on the end of his nose.

**"Good job. Now you just might wand to stop staring; I think that the nurse may be getting worried."**

_'What?'_

"Clark? Clark are you alright?" Alex asked, setting the tray she held on the table.

"Hmm? Oh yeah, I was just thinking."

"Don't think to hard, Clark; we wouldn't want you to have a seizure," she smiled teasingly.

"And what makes you say something like that?" he asked, a tone of mock offense in his voice.

"You looked like you were trying to stare a hole through that wall. I don't think Mr. Van Taren would have appreciated that very much." Clark's only response was to laugh nervously. "Well her, I brought you some of the hospital's finest food – scrambled eggs, pancakes, orange juice, and of course – jell-o."

"Thanks Alex."

"No problem..."

**-----------------------------------------------------------**

**That's it for chapter four. I hope this chapter answered a few questions that some of you guys had. I would like to apologize now for getting this out so late – I was overburdened with an insane amount of schoolwork and never had the chance before now to get this chapter up. And, as a special treat, since I don't have any classes this coming week, I plan to have the next two chapters up by Wednesday at the latest. That's all for now!**

**Don't forget to review!!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **Before I do anything else, I would like to sincerely apologize to _The Die Hard_ for my response to their review of one of my previous chapters. I have had problems in the past with people jumping to conclusions and I know that I overreacted in this case. I was merely trying to point out that you cannot always assume that you know exactly what the author is thinking. I guess I just needed a proverbial slap-in-the-face to realize that I myself jumped to a conclusion in this case. I would like to thank everyone that responded to my response the way they did, it really helped. Also, as some people have pointed out, my biography section is pointlessly long. I realized this a long time ago and just never got around to downsizing it as much as I should have. As you all might have noticed, that problem has been taken care of.

One more thing: when I had said "I don't remember asking for your critique on my bio", I never meant that I never asked you to review the _story_ - I was merely referring to the things that were nitpicked on in my _author biography_. But, as mentioned previously, those things were amended anyway.

I would also like to apologize for how long it took me to get this chapter out – I actually don't have a plausible excuse for that.

On to the story!

**Memory**

**Chapter 5**

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Lana woke up to the smell of hot cinnamon rolls and bacon mingling with fresh coffee. But Clark almost _never_ made breakfast... She opened her eyes to the sight of bold red numbers blinking at her. Her alarm clock wasn't digital... Sitting up quickly, she looked around the room to find that it was not her own. This was Clark's old room, and she was at the Kent Farm. She looked at the clock again. It was already past ten.

Climbing out of the warm bed, Lana made her way downstairs to the kitchen where she was greeted by the sight of Martha Kent and Lex Luthor talking over coffee. Martha looked up as one of the steps creaked and smiled when she saw Lana. Setting her mug down, she stood and went to the cupboard where she pulled out a plate.

"Good morning Lana. Are you hungry?"

"I'm starving," Lana replied before yawning widely.

"Have a seat while I fix you a plate, honey. Lex if you could get the pitcher of orange juice out of the fridge?"

Lana shook her head in protest. "No, Martha, I can—"

"Sit down," Martha said firmly as she dished a couple pancakes onto the plate. Lana did as she was told and took a seat at the table.

"You know, you had me worried this morning, Lana," Lex said, setting a glass of orange juice in front of her before taking his seat across the table from her.

"Oh?"

"When I asked your wait staff where you were, they said that they hadn't seen you at all this morning and you weren't at your apartment."

"I'm sorry Lex. I guess I should have let someone know where I was going to be. I just... I was in such a hurry to get out of the apartment last night that I didn't even think ahead at all," Lana said apologetically.

"Stop pestering the poor girl, Lex. She's had a rough night as it is." Martha set a plate heaped with food in front of Lana. "Now you eat up, honey."

"Thank you Martha," Lana smiled before digging in to the food.

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Alex sat in the nurses' station, filling out paperwork, when a fellow nurse stopped to lean against the counter beside her.

"So Alex, I heard that you had a bit of a run-in with Lex Luthor yesterday."

"I'm busy Andrea," Alex sighed in annoyance.

"So tell me, what was he like?" Andrea pressed, twisting her index finger in her dark curls.

"Bald. Now go away," Alex scowled, growing even more irritated.

"You're no fun, 'Lex," Andrea pouted.

"Don't call me that," Alex snapped, her eyes still not leaving the papers in front of her.

"Ahh, I remember now – you're not a very big fan of the Luthors and it offends you when people call you Lex," Andrea smirked.

"Shut up Andrea."

"Fine," Andrea said, glancing down at the chart that Alex was working on. "You're working on 'Mr. Doe', right? Have you found anything new?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but I think he might have grown up on a farm."

"Ooh, a Kansas farm boy, huh? Too bad he can't remember anything; he's pretty good-looking."

"You're horrible Andrea. Have you ever thought about the fact that the hospital wasn't set up for you to meet guys?" Alex shook her head, jotting down another bit of information on the chart.

"I know, I know," Andrea rolled her eyes, pulling a chair up beside Alex and sitting down in it. "You know, I've heard that Lex Luthor lives just outside some little farming town about three hours from here. It's called 'Smalltown' or something like that... Do you think I'd find any good-looking guys there?"

"Who knows; but I think you've got plenty of guys right here in Metropolis to terrorize – I think maybe you should leave the ones in Small_ville_ alone," Alex smirked, flipping back through Clark's chart to make sure she had everything down correctly.

"Alright, alright. I doubt I'd ever find a small town guy with any sort of potential anyway," Andrea smiled before turning to go. She stopped a few feet away and turned back to where Alex sat, reaching for another chart. "Hey 'Lex?"

"Don't call me... that..." Alex's eyes grew wide as the pen dropped out of her hand.

"Alex? What's wrong?"

"Andrea, you are so amazing!" Alex said jumping out of her seat and pulling the other nurse into a hug.

"Umm... Okay..."

"I'll explain later!" Alex called back over her shoulder as she took off down the hall.

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Lex stormed into his office. "I told you that you were no longer welcome here," he scowled.

"Is that any way to greet your father?" Lionel Luthor didn't even bother turning from where he stood, scanning over a page in a book by none other than Nietzsche. He closed the book, placing it back on the shelf before pulling out another one and thumbing through it.

"Why are you here?" Lex demanded, his voice rising.

Lionel smirked. "I heard that your friend Clark has been missing for quite some time now. I was just wondering if perhaps I could be of some help in the search for him."

Lex could feel every muscle in his body tensing up as he prepared for the worst news possible. "What did you do?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"I'm afraid that I don't understand what you're trying to imply here, Lex," Lionel said slowly, raising an eyebrow as he turned to look at Lex.

"You bastard! Where is Clark!" Lex roared, taking a menacing step towards his father.

Lionel chuckled cruelly, closing the book and setting it on the edge of the desk. "Did you know that Clark Kent tends to become quite ill when he's around fragments of the meteor? I'd almost call it an allergic reaction."

"Where is he?" Lex's voice had dropped to a deathly tone, his expression murderous.

"You know, I couldn't tell you. But it may take him a while to remember what happened to him..." Lionel tossed him a small object that glinted in the light coming through one of the windows. "His wife may want that back," Lionel sneered before leaving.

Lex looked at what he had caught and now held in the palm of his hand... It was Clark's wedding ring.

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Lana ran her hands over the smooth surface of the telescope, smiling before she bent down to look through the eyepiece. She chuckled softly when she came across the sight of her Aunt's old home. A new family lived there now, of course, but she would never forget growing up there, where her closest neighbors were the Kents.

"Don't tell me that you're spying on that poor family." Lana turned to find Martha coming up the stairs with two mugs in hand. "I figured you could use some hot chocolate. It's getting pretty cold out now."

"Thank you Martha," Lana smiled, accepting the mug.

"You know, I remember when you and Clark were in high school and he had the biggest crush on you, I would catch him up here, watching your aunt's house, just hoping for a glimpse of you," Mrs. Kent grinned, looking out the window at the starry night sky.

Lana's smile spread even wider as she sipped her cocoa, relishing in the warmth it gave off. "I always felt like I had a guardian angel watching over me back then," she whispered, her own gaze being drawn towards the heavens. "I remember after homecoming back in ninth grade, Whitney had just dropped me off at home and right before I went inside, I felt as though someone was right there with me," she smiled, shaking her head at the memory. "And somehow... I've always known that it was Clark."

"I'm not interrupting, am I?" Lana and Martha looked up to find Lex standing at the top of the stairs, waiting patiently.

"Not at all, Lex. Come, have a seat," Martha smiled. Lex quickly obliged, taking a seat on the couch with Lana. "Is something wrong Lex?" Mrs. Kent asked, noticing for the first time the defeated look he wore on his face.

"Mrs. Kent, would you mind if I spoke with Lana alone for a minute?"

"Go right ahead. I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything," Martha smiled sadly before she left them alone.

Lex sat quietly for a minute before he sighed. "Lana, before I can say anything else, I have to tell you that I'm sorry."

"Lex, none of this is your fault," Lana said, looking at him incredulously. "I know we've gone over this at least once before..."

"Except that I now know for a fact that I am at least indirectly responsible for what happened." Lex refused to look at her, his eyes riveted to a crack in one of the floorboards. If he hadn't been so adamant about figuring out what was so different about Clark Kent in the first place, his father's interest would not have been piqued. And Clark wouldn't have had to worry about it in the first place, especially after Clark had found out about the room in Lex's mansion with all of Lex's research.

"What are you saying?" Lana asked, her voice quivering and her expression one of brief distrust.

"I found out why Clark went missing in the first place."

"In the first... Lex, you're going to have to clarify this for me, because I'm completely lost right now. What happened to Clark?"

"My father had Clark kidnapped, Lana. He managed to find out about Clark's abilities and thus his weakness, and had him kidnapped and taken to a remote lab for experimentation." Lex's shoulders drooped in shame as the guilt of his actions weighed down on him.

"He... What! Is he still there!" Lana cried, her eyes wide with horror. She clutched the fabric of her pants in a grip so tight her knuckles were turning white. In the silence that loomed before Lex's response, Lana prayed that she would see her husband alive again.

"No." Lana slumped back against the back of the couch in relief, letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Lex smiled briefly before continuing. "Thankfully, he somehow managed to escape, and not even my father's thugs can figure out where he disappeared to."

"Why wouldn't he have just come right home?" Lana asked him, sitting up. What could have happened to him that he wouldn't come home?

"You know what post traumatic stress syndrome is, right?"

"Well yeah, I guess, but—"

"Many people that suffer from it subconsciously push their memories away in an attempt to ease the pain that they've experienced. It's kind of like amnesia, but it's usually only temporary. Most of the time, coming across whatever made them forget in the first place will usually help to jog their memory." Lex explained the dilemma in the shortest way he possibly could. He hated to think that Clark could be out there somewhere, unable to find his way back.

"So Clark can't remember anything?" Lana asked, tears glistening in her eyes. If she got him back, how would she explain their marriage to him? Or worse, their unborn child?

"It's possible that he could remember certain details, such as his name, some everyday habits or even some names and faces."

"What about his powers?" Lana's tone was uncertain. "Would he remember how to use them?"

"That's what has me concerned," Lex told her, standing and moving over to the window, where he leaned down on the edge, looking out over the farm fields. "If he can't remember that he has those abilities, he could end up triggering them the same way he did when he first found out that he had them. And until he's able to figure out that _he's_ the one that's causing it and how they're being triggered, he's endangering himself and everyone around him."

Lana couldn't hold back the tears that slid down her cheeks. "How could this have happened?" she sobbed. "Are you absolutely sure that this is really what happened to him?"

Lex sighed, turning to face her. "Yes... I'm positive."

"How did you find out?"

Lex closed his eyes. "My father stopped by the mansion this morning... he gave me a few hints."

"Your father! Lex, how can you be so certain that you can believe what he told you?" Lana cried in despair, her shoulders drooping. "How do you know he wasn't lying?" In all the years that Lana had known Lex and his father, there was one thing she had learned for certain about Lionel Luthor and that was that he couldn't be trusted. Lionel never did anything without some hidden agenda.

"He wasn't lying Lana..." Lex told her quietly, reaching into his pocket.

"But—" she trailed off as he took her hand and pressed something into it.

"My father gave me that himself..."

Lana's sobs echoed through the barn and out into the night air as Lex gently pulled her into his arms.


End file.
